Extremadura

Cigognes/cigüeñas

Cáceres

Old man reading the Sunday paper in Cáceres

Having my Disney Princess moment

Plaza Mayor, Mérida

At the finca

Our room 

Trujillo

At the amphitheater in Mérida

Georgetown group in Mérida

This weekend marked the Georgetown group's first weekend group trip, and, given that I really didn't know what to expect, I was pleasantly surprised by how much I enjoyed it!  Extremadura is the region just south of Castilla-León, which is where Salamanca is.  Like our region, it is located along the Portuguese border, and its climate and architecture more closely resemble that of Andalucia, the south of Spain (where cities like Sevilla, Granada and Córdoba are) than the colder temperatures and more classical architecture of the north.  

On Friday, we took a four-hour bus ride to Mérida, a town filled with Roman ruins.  We got to our hotel, which had been converted from a monastery (it was actually really neat, and, weirdo that I am, I kept trying to picture monks walking down the halls, candles in hand to illuminate the way and chanting, or whatever it is that monks do) and had free time to explore.  Molly and I were wandering around looking for dinner; poor Molly, who is fruit and vegetable-deprived, seeing that her host mom seems to be morally opposed to both, just wanted to get some fruit, but alas, the grocery stores were already closed (Spain, we shake our fists at you).  After realizing that, after a month-and-a-half in Spain, we still don't know the majority of the things that are on a menu, which makes it really difficult to order things from a restaurant.  So we finally decided on Telepizza, the equivalent of Dominos or Pizza Hut (so we're not talking high quality cuisine here).  We sat in the Plaza Mayor, modest compared to Salamanca's, with a small fountain in the middle, and munched on our takeout pizza.  We were also FINALLY able to get our claras (beer with lemon soda).  They were really good, and well worth the wait!  We scurried back to our hotel, because we had seen that Pirates of the Caribbean was playing at 10, but, to our disappointment, we couldn't find the channel.  And then I realized that I've never done pay-per-view at a hotel.  I wouldn't even have the slightest idea how to do it!  So we basically crashed.  

Saturday was full of touring.  With full stomachs (Spanish hotel breakfasts are pretty amazing, and Molly was pretty much salivating over the abundance of fruit!), we headed off with our guide, Marco, for a walking tour of the city.  The most important aspect of the tour was the Roman ruins, which, over the years, have been excavated from layers and layers of soil.  We saw the remains of a house (floor tiles and all), and then what I can only describe as a Colosseum-esque structure (where we were horrified to discover that women couldn't even sit with their husbands in the first tier- they had to sit in the third tier with the poor viewers).  We then walked over to the amphitheater and then took a short tour of the National Roman Ruins Museum, which was really interesting.  By this point in the day, we figured out that we had landed ourselves another character of a guide.  Marco broke into random outbursts of song (the most random of American songs, at that), and, every once in awhile, would throw in a few English words.  His English was British English, which was strange for us to hear, because I guess we're used to hearing American English when we hear English.  He had a little joke with all of us; for example, I was Mary Poppins, because, in Mérida, I had Molly take a picture of me with my umbrella.  From then on, I was Mary Poppins.  He especially liked Pam's head of curly hair, calling her things like "Dũena Ross" (Diana Ross).  We all had some good laughs.

On Saturday afternoon, after a short bus ride, we arrived in Trujillo, our next city.  We visited yet another castle, and roamed the streets.  The scenery around Trujillo got us in the Ireland mindset (actually, I just booked all of our Irish hostels today for spring break!), with it's rolling green hills and odd rock formations.  After our tour, we drove to a farm, finca Santa Marta, the home (well, probably the second or third home) of a retired Dutch diplomat and his family that they have converted into a B&B of sorts.  Not that Salamanca is a big, bustling city (on the contrary, it's small and, well, sort of dull), but it turns out that it was just what I needed to get out of the city for a few days and commune with nature, as hokey as that sounds!  I was in my element at the finca, which I think could be the definition of bucolic.  When Celia told us we were staying at a farm, I was sort of expecting that we'd be sleeping on palates on the ground in the barn or something.  But I was pleasantly surprised to see that we were sleeping in charming little rooms with Dutch doors (perfect for Disney princess moments; see pictures) and cute décor.  The one problem we all had was that the water was brown, which didn't stop us all from showering but led to some complaining.  At least we didn't have bugs in our room, which some of the other girls did.  I was exhausted at about midnight, but Molly and I ended up staying up until about 2:30 swapping childhood anecdotes, which was well worth staying up for.  I'm sure everyone else could hear us laughing through the thin walls.  

On Sunday morning, we had a leisurely breakfast in the dining room of the farm and then went for a nice stroll around the grounds.  I felt like I was Anne Shirley and Finca Santa Marta was my Avonlea.  It was gorgeous, with cherry blossoms, little flowers, and stone walls lining the dirt roads.  I honestly didn't want to leave.  But unfortunately, we had to, in order to make our next stop in Cáceres, Marco's hometown.  The thing that differentiates Cáceres from most other cities, he explained, is that, within the old city walls, no new buildings have been constructed, so everything is authentic.  We had another entertaining tour with Marco, capped off by the horrifying discovery that cigognes, such a constant fixture as a symbol of Alsace, also exist in Extremadura, and are called cigüeñas.  Just my luck!  I thought I was getting away from all of the cigogne stuffed animals and paraphenelia when I left Strasbourg, but I knew, when I saw strings of stuffed animals hanging from gift shop awnings, that I had NOT escaped!  After lunch, we came back home, not at all wanting to get back into the normal class routine!

One of the things I realized before we left on Friday was that Sunday, yesterday, would be the first day of March, my favorite month for many reasons.  This year, though, March seems like any other month.  I won't be back at school celebrating my birthday with my friends (and family, if they made the journey down to D.C. like they did my freshman year).  I won't be going to Florida with my family for spring break (so you can imagine how jealous I am that my mom gets a head start on her tanning!).  And oh, can't forget March Madness!  Let's just say that this year is a rebuilding year for my Hoyas, and their chances of making it to the Big Dance are slim to none, so, like my dad keeps telling me, it's a good year to be away.  But I feel like I'm caught in some sort of strange basketball limbo.  I vaguely know what's going on with the team, thanks to emails and Facebook posts from family and friends, but I feel so removed from it all that I am certainly not following the team with the same intensity that I have in years past.  Oh well, that just means I can start anew next year, ready to spend a good chunk of my free time outside Verizon and trying desperately to get in good running shape so as to give me the best chance possible of getting my seats.  This is probably boring you, but it's a big part of my life, so I thought I should mention it!

While I'm on the subject of things I'm missing, I was just reading Allie's blog, where she was talking about questioning her decision to come abroad and having to sacrifice being at home for her brother's 18th birthday and high school graduation and miss all sorts of other important life events at home and at Georgetown.  I can really sympathize with what she's going through, and I find that I'm in a constant struggle with myself to get past those feelings.  Thanksgiving was by far the worst- even though it's not a particularly big deal in my family (we eat our body weight in stuffing, turkey, cranberry sauce and pumpkin pie just like your average American family), the fact that my entire family (including my grandparents) was together but I wasn't with them was really painful.  But in terms of things on the horizon, it makes me really sad that I'll miss Tim's graduation (even though he couldn't care less about whether or not his embarrassing older sister comes to his high school graduation).  It doesn't make sense for me to go home, especially since I'll be in the middle of finals, but it still kills me that I won't be there.  And speaking of Tim, he'll be finding out within the next two or three weeks where he's going to college, and I can't help but think that I'm as nervous as he is (even though I know that's not true!)!!!!!!!

So what do we have to look forward to within the next few weeks?  This weekend, we're going to do a day trip (probably to Toledo), followed by, hopefully, a visit to Madrid the weekend after that, and Portugal the next weekend.  And a month from tomorrow, we'll be in London, so I can't WAIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  All of these exciting trips will help us (I hope) get through the drudgery of classes!!!!

I hope all is well with you, and, as always, I'm 

Sending you my love,

Kristen